


An Encounter

by lisztomania



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2832734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisztomania/pseuds/lisztomania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Listen, I’m running late for school and you just hit me with your motorcycle cause you’re also late, and no I don’t want to go to the hospital even though I might’ve broken a rib or gotten a concussion because I <em>cannot</em> miss this test so can you just please shut up and give me a ride?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Encounter

She woke up with her head on her desk, her glasses askew and her hand loosely wrapper around a half-empty mug filled with (cold) coffee. There was a dull ache in her neck. Groaning, she checked her watch. 

**8:15.**

"Shit, I’m going to be late for school!" she yelped. Her alarm didn’t fucking ring. Glancing down at her polka dot pyjamas, she sprang out of her seat and roughly shoved her school supplies in her bag.

There was no time for breakfast, so she downed her glass of coffee in one go. After splashing water on her face, she quickly changed into the first article of clothing she could grab from her closet, which turned out to be a long-sleeved, grey knitted dress which… actually still looked like pyjamas. The shoes she hastily put on happened to be her trusty converse. She looked ridiculous and her hair was a mess but she couldn’t possible care about that, because _she was supposed to be in school by now._

She practically ran down the stairs, her school bag and math notebook in hand. As usual, her mom was still passed out on the couch downstairs. She rolled her eyes. This was one of the times she wished her mom would do what regular moms do; have the decency to wake her up in time for school. 

She didn’t even bother saying goodbye because she knew she wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, considering how she heard her drunkenly singing Total Eclipse of the Heart at 4am. 

She finger combed her hair, adjusted her backpack and opened her notebook to cram in some seriously last-minute studying. All while briskly walking.

Most of Felicity’s night had been spent studying for the dreaded Trigonometry test.

Unfortunately, said Trigonometry test was first period, and even geniuses like Felicity Smoak had to study. She has put a lot on pressure on herself lately; her goal was to get in MIT and graduate _summa cum laude_. After that, who knows where life would take her?

She was going over the formulas when a sudden force slammed into her left side. Her math notebook flew out of her hand and the next thing she knew, she was lying in the middle of the concrete road and seeing stars. 

Blinking groggily and groaning at the pain she felt on her side, she saw a hand outstretched and a blurry figure looming over her. 

"Are you okay?" asked a voice worriedly. She couldn’t recognize who it was because her glasses were knocked out of her face, but she could tell it was a man by the voice.

"Shit, I’m so, so sorry. I kind of hit you with my motorcycle!" he reached out to her. "Goddamnit, Slade was right. I can't handle the jet lag," he muttered to himself, crouching beside her.

Her glasses! Where were they? She needed them.

"Where are my glasses? I can’t see," She immediately squinted and felt around the ground, ignoring him. 

The stranger helped her up and she blinked at him, mentally cursing her poor eyesight. Her head was spinning, but she could make out a tall figure with short-cropped light brown hair. She had no time to figure out the details. 

"Here, it’s cracked…." he reached behind him and handed it to her, looking sincerely apologetic. She hastily put it on and checked her watch again, not looking at him.

**8:25.**

She was 10 minutes late. 

"Shit, um. It was nice meeting you, but I have a test. I need to go. Now." she stood up too quickly, ignoring the sharp pain in her side and the dull throbbing pain in her head. She barely noticed the cut on his hand when he held her waist and the slight limp in his step when he helped her up.

"Wait! I just hit you with my motorcycle, don’t you need to go to the hospital?” the stranger asked, his voice laced with concern. He rested both of his hands on her shoulders. They were rough and calloused, maybe from spending a lot of time riding his bike... which probably had more or less some damage after hitting a girl and skidding 5 feet on the road. "I am so sorry. I’m running late for school, but fuck it. I hit you by accident and I need to help you by—"

“Listen, I’m running late for school and you just hit me with your motorcycle cause you’re also late, and no I don’t want to go to the hospital even though I might’ve broken a rib or gotten a concussion because I _cannot_ miss this test so can you just please shut up and give me a ride?” she rambled on, ignoring the terrible flare of pain she felt.

"—bringing you to the hospital and paying for your bills. I’ll also buy you new glasses" he finished, albeit uncertainly. His expression gave away a flicker of emotions, from concern to surprise to amusement and back to concern.

She was breathless from her little outburst. And _god_ , her head felt like a million little Felicity Smoaks were trying to hack into her brain. 

”Give a ride to school? Are you crazy? You need to go to the hospital!” he exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes," she said firmly. "But I cannot miss this Trigonometry test. It’s first period, and we are clearly wasting more time. Can we _pleasepleaseplease_ just leave right now?” she stepped forward towards his bike, which lay on the ground a few feet away.

He just stared at her and sighed in defeat, somehow knowing he couldn’t convince her to go to the hospital no matter how hard he tried.

"Fine. I’ll bring you to school," he decided. At last, she did a fist pump, cringing in pain a second later due to her forgotten injuries. "On one condition," he smiled, a little smug.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What?"

"I’ll meet you later after the test and I take you to the hospital. You really need to see a doctor, no excuses. Besides, I have a few injuries myself," he said, pointing to the cut on his hand and his knee. It was hidden under his designer jeans, but it was probably injured too by the way he was limping.

She paused, considering his offer. “Wait, but before I agree to go with you, I need to know your name first. What’s the name of the mysterious hot guy that just hit me with his motorcycle and possibly made me miss my Trigonometry test?” she raised her eyebrows at him.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Did I say that aloud?” She asked, cringing. Damn her lack of filter.

"Oliver Queen," he grinned, nodding.

"Oliver Queen?" she asked incredulously. 

***

She’d heard of Oliver Queen countless times before, each story about him more amusing than the other.

He was that guy who pulled a prank on the Chemistry teacher and nearly blew up the science lab. Her best friend, Sara Lance, was actually there when it happened.

There was also that one time when he opened his laptop during History class to find porn still playing from the night before. The entire class burst out laughing, catching Professor Diggle's attention. Oliver got suspended for a week. 

But, of course, even after all these incidents, he still gets to stay. Why? _His last name is on the goddamn building._ His mother is the principal and he’s filthy rich. Roy Harper told her that if it weren't for his money and connections, Oliver Queen would be long gone from this school. She kind of despised him, even though they haven’t even met each other yet. Oliver had gone to Australia a year ago when they were juniors, which happened to be the year when Felicity transferred from Las Vegas. Thanks to her genius intellect, she got a scholarship to one of Starling City’s best schools; Queen High. She was glad she left Vegas. Otherwise, she would probably end up a cocktail waitress like her mother. 

Well, nothing much has changed with her mom. She was still serving drinks, but at Verdant — a prestigious night club in the city. They were taking one step at a time.

Meanwhile, people like Oliver had everything handed to him on a plate. Felicity had to work to get to where she was…

Which was in the middle of the road on the way to school. Talking to Oliver Queen… After he hit her with his motorcycle when they were both running late.

What a sight to see.

***

"In the flesh," he said, bowing ridiculously.

"Huh, I didn’t know you were back from Australia."

"Yeah, well, jet lag really is a bitch," he shrugged. “Wait, how’d you know I was in Australia?"

"Hmm," she hummed. “I’ve heard a lot about you."

She couldn’t believe that she’s have an experience like this with him and they've just met. 

Not that she wanted any more experiences with him.

Oliver's surprised but amused expression gave her the impression that she just said all of that out loud. He picked up his bike and put on his helmet with a small grin.

Felicity was glad she couldn’t fully see his reaction because of his helmet, but she was embarrassed nonetheless. _Could this day get any worse?_ she thought as she shyly wrapped her arms around his waist after he gently commanded her to hold on tight.

“I imagined you saying that under different circumstances,” she muttered, her mouth seemingly moving on its own accord. She could feel more than hear his soft chuckle.

She blanched. "I'm going to pretend I didn't say anything in 3...2...1."

They were speeding off to school in no time, Felicity holding on for dear life. She was glad he couldn’t see her face either, because she was sure that a very obvious blush was creeping up her neck at the physical proximity between them.

"So I was going to ask for your name but I didn't get a chance to because of your rambling," he said casually, loudening his voice due to the wind whipping around them. 

"My _annoying_ rambling," she corrected. "Sorry. I ramble a lot. More so when I'm stressed."

"Don't apologize, it's kinda cute."

"Being stressed?" She scoffed. "Hell no, it's not cute. It's absolute hell."

"No, I mean, your rambling. It's cute."

"Oh," she fell silent for a moment, pleasantly surprised at that compliment. Her cheeks grew warm. "I'm Felicity Smoak, by the way."

"Felicity Smoak," he repeated. It sounded nice when he said it. "Oh, _Felicity Smoak!_ "

"Uh, yeah," she laughed nervously. “Is it me or does your tone imply that you know me already?”

“I know you! Well, not exactly. More accurately, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied.

She blinked in confusion. “What, you heard about me? From who?”

“Oh, when I was in Australia, my mom, being the concerned parent/school principal she is, would give me weekly updates on what’s happening in school, academic-wise. Like who’s the top student, for example,” he cleared his throat. “She wouldn’t shut up about you. Oh, Felicity Smoak’s our valedictorian. She’s such a good student. Felicity _this,_ Felicity _that._ ”

She could practically feel his eye roll.

“Oh, please. I’m not that great.” She feigned indifference, but honestly, she was flattered that Oliver had heard of her even when he hadn’t met her yet and he was literally on the other side of the world.

“You are really great, if you won’t get my mom to shut up about you.” He said. “So, what’s gotten Moira Queen’s favorite student running late and looking like she’d rolled out of bed?"

“First of all, I did not roll out of bed. More accurately, I rolled out of my very uncomfortable chair by my study desk. I was studying for the Trigonometry test, which is probably happening right now. Oh my god, I’m late." unable to slap herself, she instead tightened her grip on Oliver’s middle, no doubt feeling the hard ridges of muscle through his shirt. 

"Huh, well… That’s okay, don’t worry. I bet you’ll ace that test," he assured, clearly knowing about how smart she was. He was slightly distracted by the feel of her arms around him.

She scoffed and scrunched up her nose, instinctively trying to adjust her glasses. “I’m flattered, but don’t get your hopes up. Even the almighty Felicity Smoak can mess up sometimes.”

"You just referred to yourself in third person.” 

"Yeah, well, if you've got a problem with --"

"I guess that’s one thing we have in common," he murmured. 

“that...” she trailed off, letting his words sink in. "Huh."

Luckily, they came to a halt. They were already in front of the familiar Queen High School building. 

"And, we’re here." Oliver removed his helmet and stepped down from his bike. 

He stretched out his arm, helping her get down.

She tried not to blush; she was _really_ close to him. Realizing this, she took a few steps back. 

"Thanks for hitting on me today, Oliver," she paled when she realized what she said, immediately backtracking. "I-I mean, hitting me. Thanks for hitting me with your bike. Sure, I might’ve gotten a concussion in the least, but at least I’m only… 21 minutes late. It might’ve been an awful 30 if I’d just walked," she laughed nervously. 

"It was my pleasure, I’d like to do it again sometime," he smiled. "Definitely not the hitting-you-with-my-bike part, though. But you know, I’ll still buy you new glasses… and I’ll pay for your hospital bill, which will definitely happen later. We can go to the hospital together.” he fiddled with his helmet. ”After all, you’re my responsibility now. I hit you with my bike.” His gaze locked with hers, and she was 100% sure that she was so screwed. His eyes were so blue.

"I’ll, uh, meet you after your test?" 

She nodded, looking up at him. Her heart skipped a beat. Dammit, Oliver Queen had this effect on every girl in school. At the mention of the word “test”, all her responsibilities came crashing into her. 

"Fuck, the trigonometry test!" she broke into an awkward half-limp, half-run towards the direction of her classroom. “See you later, Oliver!” she turned her head to yell at him over her shoulder, cringing in pain from her stiff neck. 

"I’ll take that as a yes," he said cheekily, the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. 

He took his time in parking his bike. It wouldn’t kill if Oliver Queen was late on his first day, right?

Besides, he had something to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this a few weeks ago but failed to post it! I didn't edit it much, so I'm sorry if there are errors. Please review :)


End file.
